


mitsukaru

by Yui_Miyamoto



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-13
Updated: 2004-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28763070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yui_Miyamoto/pseuds/Yui_Miyamoto
Summary: Ryouma and Fuji reflect on how both of them are affected by Tezuka and his absence.
Relationships: Echizen Ryouma/Tezuka Kunimitsu, Fuji Shuusuke/Tezuka Kunimitsu





	mitsukaru

** Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis doesn’t belong to me. I’m just truly in love with Tezuka. **  
  
I only find myself  
When I’m with you.  
  
**mitsukaru  
By miyamoto yui**  
  
  
Even though no one wanted to admit it, the feeling of emptiness was there. The parting with affectionate eyes, but no words could ever be forgotten.  
  
When someone had to go away, that was just the way things were, and you shouldn’t stop them from doing what was good for them. But when had he ever followed those rules? When did he ever become considerate of society’s eyes?  
No, it wasn’t society at all.  
  
It was those eyes that were sharper than any knife sharpened to its finest point. Those eyes were haunting him even though the absence was there.  
  
He looked at the ceiling and rubbed his palms over his eyes. His fingers pushed slightly onto his face and his mouth grimaced. It wasn’t insanity and it wasn’t a form of crying. It was embedded frustration at the whole situation.  
He didn’t want to look at anything, even though all that was around him was darkness within the quiet night.  
  
He wanted to escape those eyes that kept on looking at him. In the back of his head, he could remember the face that faded with each day that came with the gloominess of the clouds or the rays of sunshine that seemed to pierce more than comfort him. The face seemed to always know what to do.  
  
He could see right through him. And he hated it. Not even his father could read him so well.  
  
That person could read everything he thought without saying anything. How could anyone know him so intimately in such a short amount of time? They didn’t hang out very much together. And ironically, the only thing he could think of whenever he recalled his voice was, “Echizen, it has to be you.”  
  
It has to be you…  
What did he mean by that? Was it beyond the tennis court?  
  
Why the hell did he have to think about that possibility in the first place? Because the captain had touched his head.   
  
Before he left, he took Ryouma aside and patted his hair. The captain never touched anyone and when he did that, there was something already very wrong with the way things were progressing. Ryouma thought he would do the usual, “Lead Seigaku to victory in my place. Please become Seigaku’s pillar.”  
  
No, not that day. The serious-eyed captain with his Seigaku jacket and quiet, deep voice said, “Echizen, it has to be you.”   
  
  
When he had said that, it was done.  
“Tezuka-buchou?” Ryouma’s expression became less tensed as Tezuka took away his hand.    
  
Instantly, the wind had blown, wanting to erase the brief show of warmth. He wanted to ask him, but he couldn’t quite put it into words. It was something he didn’t want to ask. Besides, his admiration for the captain got in the way. Why would he question his captain?  
  
Then, Tezuka left just like that. He nodded his head and turned around to leave.  
  
But the way he looked…   
Ryouma could see it in his eyes. Through all the times they played against one another, he knew his opponent. Through all the practices, he knew his captain. Through all the private sessions for “life lessons”, he knew his friend.    
Those eyes were holding back.  
  
Just like the match with Atobe. Tezuka was trying to prove his point to the extreme. Everyone wanted to help him, but he didn’t want it. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, he just wasn’t used to it. Ryouma knew that. They were alike: They both did it on their own.  
  
They weren’t used to someone helping them.  
  
That’s why he couldn’t really go to sleep at night and woke up late almost every morning. This bad habit became worse with the departure of the captain.    
  
Those eyes wouldn’t let him go. He didn’t know how to help him. Not outside of a tennis court.  
Both of them were trapped by their reputations. They were the “best” and they had to stay that way. But anything and everything out of the court made them so vulnerable.  
  
They weren’t heroes. They were ordinary people…  
…and there was no one but themselves that understood this honest truth.  
  
He felt helpless when Tezuka was asking him something that maybe he couldn’t do. He was confident on the outside because if he wasn’t, there was nothing left.  
Ryouma knew for a fact he built the strength within himself by using tennis. And without this love or passion, the rest of his life was meaningless. There was nothing to pursue if he wasn’t interested.  
  
Tezuka knew this. That’s why he wanted to catch him if he fell.  
“Become the pillar…”  
  
…but who was that really for?  
  
“For you or for me?” He struggled to figure out his feelings towards everything, especially his captain.  
What did tennis mean? What did it mean to both of them? Why was he mixed up in the one thing he thought he knew everything about?  
  
Because of the captain. The captain kept on questioning him to push for more. To look farther and further. And in the process of trying to find himself, he began to rely on someone, which was unlike himself.  
  
But everything was meshed together. Passion for tennis…   
and Tezuka was there too.  
  
Why does he always make me question myself? I never second guessed myself until the captain came into my life.  
  
He wasn’t even here and I was going insane under the moonlight…  
  
**+/+/+/+/+/**   
  
The light-haired boy looked out the window and up at the moon shining in the sky. He’d stared at it this afternoon because it was everywhere. It was so beautiful he stood at one point and just admired it.  
Then, he turned away, turned off the light, and got into bed, closing his eyes.   
  
  
Turning over to one side out of frustration, he soon turned to the opposite direction. He sighed aloud. It was hard to go to sleep.  
  
Everything today felt like a dejavu and everything made him nostalgic at the same time. That’s why he was staring at the moon. It was like that the day before Mitsu left. It was kind of hard to have two different names for him. Outside, he had to say, “Tezuka-buchou.” Inside of his head, well, you just didn’t know what lewd thoughts went through his head whenever he bit on the end of his pencil to tease the frustrated Tezuka across the classroom.  
  
He called him Mitsu when they were completely alone.  
  
“Fuji,” Tezuka had said while walking behind him as they were exiting the entrance of the school.  
“Yes?” Fuji answered with a cold tone without even looking back. “Is there something you want, _Tezuka-buchou_?”  
  
In THAT kind of tone, Tezuka knew he was in trouble.   
Fuji was there…  
…he heard everything he said to Ryouma, didn’t he?  
  
“Yes,” Tezuka answered with a determined tone, filled with embarrassment, but shameless forwardness whenever it concerned the “tensai”. (It was a name he would call him inside of his head…along with other “thoughts”.)  
  
Fuji drove him crazy. And on the other side, Fuji loved to tease him because didn’t people joke most with the ones they loved the best?  
  
Tezuka, instead of thinking of his own reputation, took Fuji’s hand firmly and started to walk towards downtown.  
“Hey! I’m going home!” Fuji shouted in protest as he watched Tezuka’s back. (He hated their height difference.)  
  
Of course he was upset. After working so hard to make Tezuka come out of his shell and there was _Echizen_ taking everything away from him? He molded the sexiness that made “Tezuka”, the Tezuka as he was today.  
He started with those wonderfully, enigmatic eyes. Those kinds of glasses were never there. Fuji picked them.    
  
He used to dress in whatever he felt like. At least now, he was wearing that lavender colored shirt Fuji gave to him last Christmas because Tezuka hated to go shopping. He didn’t particularly like shopping either, but if one had to accentuate themselves, then you promoted your assets, right? This was simply marketing yourself.  
  
Even though he claimed possession over Tezuka, it was an unspoken fact among the members of the club. That was just something that was. There were no questions about it.  
  
So when Echizen stepped up to the plate, he was more than angered or annoyed. He found an opponent on the court and off of it.  
  
Being unable to express his thoughts, Tezuka was a warm stoic. As kind as he was, he killed everyone with his valiance. Fuji complemented that: He was a cold flirt.  
Oh, how he wanted to always corrupt Tezuka…  
  
Well, at least inside of his mind, he did.  
  
So you could imagine why Fuji was so flustered despite his calm countenance as Tezuka held his hand tightly with everyone staring. And he didn’t know where they were going.  
  
When they got to their destination…  
“A tennis court?” Fuji asked as he stood in front of Tezuka and looked at the tennis court before them.  
From the looks of it, the underpass and all…  
  
…wasn’t this the rumored place where both he and Echizen missed club practice for?  
  
Fuji’s eyes became a bit squinted with hurt and possessiveness. The racket felt heavier on his shoulder as he crossed his arms. “And what, pray tell, are we doing here, Mitsu?”  
“To relieve stress, Syusuke,” Tezuka simply answered as he gave him a slight smile.  
  
Was that a smirk from the ice king?  
  
Fuji warmed up to this sadistic plot. “You serve.”  
Then, he smiled widely while poking Tezuka right through his shirt and on his navel.  
  
Tezuka looked up to the sky for a moment and couldn’t help but slightly blush with a sigh. It was only Syusuke who could pull off such a thing with him.    
  
But to add more heat to the moment, Fuji pulled down the zipper of his jacket and tipped his head to one side. “And so the match begins.”   
“You act like you’ve done this before,” Tezuka commented with a matter-of-fact tone and deadpan face as he turned around to go to his side of the court.  
“In my head, of course,” Fuji said while gripping onto the racket in front of him firmer than ever.  
“Syusuke…” the embarrassed captain scolded as he jumped in the air for his first serve with his abdomen showing. Fuji took a note of this as he returned the serve.  
  
They played for a while and it was already dark.  
  
“Well, someone sure was serious today. I’m honored.”  
Syusuke looked from side to side as he took his towel and put it over Tezuka’s shoulders. He took off the captain’s frames and hung it on his shirt. Then, he wiped Tezuka’s face even though Tezuka had his own towel.  
Tezuka let go of the towel in his hand as he stared down at Fuji. How come he couldn’t show his feelings to this person even though he cared for him so much?  
  
Of course, he was scared, but it was something he couldn’t understand. Ryouma he could touch, but not Fuji, whom he had a slight history with.  
  
He took his glasses from Syusuke’s shirt with his finger slightly touching his collarbone.  
  
Smirking, Syusuke took his towel back and closed his eyes to wipe his own sweat off. As Tezuka was putting his racket into his bag, he watched Syusuke.  
“So beautiful…” he thought to himself and then he looked at the ground while zipping the bag.  
  
How could he ruin their friendship with his feelings?  
  
“What were you stressed about, Mitsu?” Syusuke asked as he put his racket over his shoulder again. But it hurt deep inside. Wasn’t that the question he wanted to ask himself?  
  
Why did you hurt me? Right in front of my face, you tell him that? Was it to make me jealous or tell me to stop pursuing you? I can never understand you, Mitsu…  
  
…and from this frustration, I tease you. I tease you relentlessly. I want an answer.  
  
“Funny…Why is my talent no good when it comes to you? I think that’s why I love you.” Syusuke thought to himself as Tezuka opened the gate for him to go through. “You don’t think of me as a title.”  
  
As they were walking through the dark underpass, Tezuka suddenly pushed Fuji’s shoulders onto the cold stone walls and kissed him.  
  
It was an awkward kiss in which their teeth touched a bit, but Fuji felt all his blood come onto his face because he could feel Tezuka this time ‘round. He was sure of Tezuka’s feelings with all the quietness.  
  
Despite Tezuka’s indecisiveness at the moment between Echizen and himself…  
  
He kept on kissing him with Syusuke dropping his racket to the ground. Being pushed against the wall was difficult, but Tezuka’s hand continued to fumble under Syusuke’s shirt as he kissed his neck. Syusuke just wrapped his arms around Tezuka’s body with his fingers touching his back while his chin rested on Tezuka’s shoulder.    
  
“What the hell has gotten into you, Mitsu?” he asked as he slightly clenched with the feel of Tezuka’s tongue on his skin.  
“You played the game the way I played it. And now, I’m playing it the way you like it,” Mitsu answered as he smiled and put his forehead on Syusuke’s shoulder.  
  
“Don’t hate me…” Mitsu whispered with his vulnerability showing. He hugged Syusuke while grabbing his shirt in between his fingers.  
  
Fuji opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.  
“I don’t,” he’d said and was now whispering this in front of him. “I just don’t understand you sometimes.”  
  
At that moment, the ceiling became blotches of a stained-glass wall. His eyes were glassy and he sighed aloud as his tears rolled down on both sides of his face. He was losing Mitsu…  
  
He knew Mitsu more than anyone else in the world. He knew he saw himself within Ryouma and that’s why he was so attached to him.  
  
But Fuji wanted to be Tezuka’s pillar.  
For Fuji wasn’t inspired to do tennis until he saw that awkward boy in the park practicing tennis by himself.  
  
The lonely, strong boy that fell down countless times, skinned his knees, got calluses on his hands, and cried when he thought no one was looking. And Fuji wanted that determination and passion within himself.    
  
Tensai meant nothing. Talent means nothing when there is no effort.  
  
Tezuka was his support and he wanted to return the favor. In the process, he didn’t know he’d become so attached. It was so unlike himself to become too involved with other people unless it concerned his own family.  
  
Ryouma knows how you are as a player, but I know you as you truly are, Mitsu.  
Even without tennis, I would still love you.  
  
The light-haired boy’s eyes closed as the cat-eyed boy put his hands over his eyes again…  
  
**+/+/+/+/+/**  
  
On that day, as Tezuka-buchou walked away, he held a grave burden within him. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what he wanted, but only one could be chosen. That’s how life was…   
  
…and he wasn’t quite ready to face it.  
  
How could he give up either?  
  
And as the captain walked away, Ryouma turned his head to his left side and seeing Fuji-sempai giving him a sad, yet annoyed look. The same as when they were battling in the rain.  
  
Each determined to win,  
Each determined to make the other lose,  
  
Inside and outside the tennis court.  
  
**Owari. / The End.  
** ****

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, it’s a weird form from what I’m used to. But as always, I’m experimenting with new stuff and always trying to improve from the last fic. (Except, I think that last PMK fic was way too depressing and the last Gravitation fic was too sexual, but that’s how I felt that day!)
> 
> I was aiming for two contrasting thoughts that reflected Tezuka through these two characters’ minds. I usually don’t like making a love-triangle. ^^;;
> 
> Mitsukaru - to be found/discovered


End file.
